


Steel's Four

by stubborn_jerk



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Affectionate Insults, Alternate Universe - Benzaiten Steel Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Flashbacks, Flirting, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Heist, Implied Sexual Content, Lingerie, Non-Linear Narrative, Other, POV Multiple, Protective Siblings, Secret Identity, Snark, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23508730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubborn_jerk/pseuds/stubborn_jerk
Summary: Detective Juno Steel has been robbed of a key, a mask, a kiss, and...Now, Juno has to look for the person who's been killing people in Hyperion for Ancient Martian artifacts and Valles Vicky just gave him her contact.Halfway across the Valles Marineris, Benzaiten Steel meets fake Dark Matters Agent Rex Glass in front of a safe.(Including: the Martian Dance Troupe,How Not To Get Away From the Law, aprons from Northstar, thieves and their cars, and a pill that makes you read thoughts.)
Relationships: Benzaiten Steel & Juno Steel, Peter Nureyev & Benzaiten Steel, Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel, Rita & Benzaiten Steel
Comments: 19
Kudos: 158





	Steel's Four

**Author's Note:**

> yes, that _is_ an ocean's eleven reference. arrest me, officer.

He found out about the threat on Juno through the morning news because the Kanagawa manor on Phobos had satellites coming out the butt and they liked to make themselves _very_ public. 

(The Kanagawas of Phobos were a weird global crime family, because they were an open one, and they publicized themselves and their crimes. Rita had compared them to this Earth celebrity family, something she found out when she was in one of those rabbit-hole clicking dazes when Juno was out of the office. It started with a K too but… He couldn’t remember.

Anyway.)

He found out about Juno’s new paramour over the comms, while Juno nursed his drink like a lifeline.

And maybe it was.

The last time Juno fell this hard and fast for someone, it hadn’t end well. Hell, he even had the fairly new and still unused _kurta_ stuffed in the back of his closet to prove it, and he was sure Juno still had his bridal _sari_ buried deeper in his own closet than a nest of rabbits in Oldtown’s sewer systems.

The fact that Juno had to arrest Cass was just salt on the wound, to be honest. Though he and Cass weren’t close friends for obvious reasons, she was Juno’s friend, which meant she was his friend. It was a twin thing. By that logic, Benten was also Cecil’s friend, even if he didn’t like Cecil.

This case really did a number on his sibling.

But of course, Benten couldn’t do much but offer him love and support, send Rita a few well-meaning instructions to keep an eye on him during work with promises of a new monitor to HR and maybe a few _actual good_ streams instead of the garbage she lets Juno think she watches just so she could annoy him. 

He was halfway across the planet (which didn’t mean much, considering he could drive all the way to the domes of Promethei, maybe even get creative and drive a hole straight into Hyperion, in all of five hours, give or take, a few breakdowns from the rickety old secondhand thing he called his transport), and all he could do was sit there, listening to Juno sniffling and pretending not to, telling his twin about his day, trying to keep his head off the topic of Agent Not-Glass.

And well, Benten wasn’t actually telling him about his day. Not all of it, really.

Officially, Benten was a member of the Martian Dance Troupe, living in Galle City, because the Martian Dance Troupe only had dance studios in the Argyre plain city domes.

Officially, he took a few jobs in community centers here and there, helping old folks learn the foxtrot, just like in Oldtown, because Benzaiten was nothing if not a suck-up, if you asked Juno. (If you _didn’t_ ask Juno, it was because Benten liked it when someone older told him he was a good person and okay, maybe he _was_ a suck-up, but Juno didn’t have to be so pleased about that, the insufferable dickhead.)

Officially, Benten had two months off every three months when the troupe was off-season, to leave the Argyre plains for Promethei Terra, visit Oldtown, catch up with Mick, and help around in the Steel Detective Agency, as much as Juno hates to let him. Benten took a few state-offered courses of robotics and auto mechanics and Rita could use the company (and if he took the courses because wanted to impress Mick Mercury, then that’s _his_ business and definitely not something Juno can tease him about constantly because he had to have the stupidest crush on their only straight friend).

Unofficially though? We’ll get to that later.

“ _I miss you, Ben_ ,” Juno croaked, slumped down on the table where he put his comms so that he wouldn’t have to hold it up to his face like he usually did (and that meant Benten didn’t have to spend this entire call staring at his sibling's forehead). “ _What month is it?_ ”

Benten sighed. “I was there two months ago, Super-Steel. You can wait until December, can’t you? It’s only a few weeks.”

Juno groaned. “ _Why can’t you just leave? You have, I don’t know, understudies, don’t you?_ ”

He laughed, made a coy gesture of putting his hand on his chest, “Well, when you put it like that.”

Juno didn’t raise his head, but Benten knew he was rolling his eyes. Benten chuckled, “No, Juno, I _don’t_ have an understudy, I’m not that high up the food chain to have a replacements. But it’s flattering you think I’m that accomplished.”

“ _You’ve been there long enough, Ben, I still don’t understand how your thing works_.”

“Apparently.”

“ _Smartass_.”

“Dickhead.”

They laughed, Juno sounding tired. Benten made a discontented noise. “Hey, go to bed. And drink water, brush your teeth, the works, alright? If you don’t, I’m going to drive there and poke you about your love life.”

“ _Well, in that case_.” Juno shifted to show one single blue eye, scrunched up at the corners into a contagious smile.

“Juno.”

“ _Yeesh, alright already. Don’t have to boss me around._ ”

“Oh no,” Benten grinned. “You? Call _me_ bossy? Tell me, who has the boss lady shirt?”

“ _You did, then you gifted it to me. So, both of us, relatively_.”

“Dickhead.”

“ _Smartass_.”

“Good night, Juno,” Benten said, with all the fond finality of a younger twin who was tired of his older twin’s bullshit but still very much loved him. “Stay safe.”

Juno stirred from his slump, looking like he felt every single year he’s ever been alive very distinctively. His coat was askew, his hair was messy, and his sweater had stains Benten wasn’t sure was blood or sweat or both. Benten sighed, wishing he could make him feel better. 

Juno, knowing all of this was running through his head, because they were just those kind of people, grumbled out a very not-reassuring, “ _Yeah, yeah. Night. Love you_.”

“Love you too, Super-Steel.”

The call cut off. And he was alone again.

His comms landed on the coffee table with a clatter as he stretched out into the sofa, considering his next job. 

It was quick and easy. He’d already gathered enough evidence to bring this entire empire down, and he knew where the loot was and how to get to it. They had an event at the end of the month that Benten was invited to, and all he had to do was time when he was going to call the authorities before he left.

See, officially, Benzaiten Steel was a professional dancer. 

In reality, well, there was no Martian Dance Troupe (which Juno would have known, had he been computer literate or invited to a single performance. Also, if he weren’t so scared of being judged by the rich. Juno worked with tons of rich people every day and he can’t take being judged by them. Benten didn’t understand it). 

Benten had a day job at community centers, he worked every now and then in a private dance studio for children who wanted to learn any kind of dance, he had a twin who loved him and he loved back, and he was a long way from home. But Benten didn’t pay the bills by being a dance teacher.

Back in Oldtown, Mick used to have a hovercycle he loved to brag about. King of the Freeway, he called himself. Benten and Juno had never met a patriarch before, so they were intrigued, and Benten knew he was bullshitting because Juno had that look on his face, but he once took a ride on that hovercycle (and it may or may not have cemented some Feelings), and it was amazing. It felt like he was flying.

Juno always believed his only love was dancing. He was like that, because Juno liked to stick to one interest at a time, even if that _was_ bad art and superheroes. But Benten loved because he could. He loved dance and movies and a good drink, every now and then. He was a big fan of vehicles (so, maybe that auto mechanic course wasn’t purely for impressing Mick, no one can prove anything, not even Detective Steel) and he was a big fan of living his life like it was the last day.

Vigilantism wasn’t something he thought he’d love but hey, he was a Steel. He got into more trouble than he was worth.

Galle City had its own underground, just like everywhere else in the entire universe, but it was less intricately-woven with the local government than Hyperion, which made it a good primer for him.

And it wasn’t for justice. Don’t get him wrong, he had a detective for a sibling, after all, so he was very much all for keeping things good for everyone. But he didn’t go around stealing from the rich and corrupt for some moral.

Which is all just a roundabout way of saying that if Juno Steel tried anything once, Benzaiten Steel tried everything as much as he wanted to. And getting away with bringing down small crime rings around Argyre to loot them was one hell of a high, one Benten’s been riding for a decade now.

* * *

The loot was never anything huge or prominent, and it wasn’t usually something the police would notice when it all came down to it. The GCPD wouldn’t appreciate it if their local open secret started stealing the evidence, wouldn’t they? 

No, Benten only stole something a trillionaire wouldn’t even feel in their pocket, enough to feed a few hundred thousand mouths in the Cerberus Province, enough to donate to the private dance studio he worked in, enough to get a couple of kids off the street, and enough to pay the rent.

The Carters, as native on Galle as anyone from a colony could be a native, had started their human trafficking scheme three years ago, and seasonally got bigger every time Earth came into orbit.

He didn’t like working during Martian summers, even if Galle isn’t that deep a crater to be unbearably humid and warm under the dome, but a job was a job, and the GCPD weren’t getting close enough to solving this even with the few moles they had on the inside.

So, he’s invited as their dance studio’s representative, because of course the Carters would want a business function. After all, one of the Carters wants to run for mayor. 

Convenient, right?

He socialized throughout the evening, his hand landing on a few arms, handing out business cards and extending invitations to the community center, enticing a few pleasant enough rich people over in case they wanted to learn a few moves (maybe he winked at a few of these pleasant people, and maybe some of them slipped a number into his very tight pants pockets). And, once he had enough for a good alibi, he slipped through to the private areas of the house.

It’s thirty minutes before the authorities arrive when Benten spots him by the safe.

He’s lost, he said. He’d been looking for someone he thought he saw. His name was Jupiter Richards because of course his name was something stupid like Jupiter Richards. Foxlike, sharp teeth, wearing a dull black suit and tie made to seem like he was just some Joe Friday.

Being a Steel, Benten didn’t buy it.

What kind of Joe Friday roots around someone else’s study in the cover of darkness because he was lost?

And then Jupiter Richards stopped talking, because Benten had been inching his way slowly towards the safe. He had a mission here, and he needed to get to that safe before the authorities arrived. 

Jupiter Richards stopped talking because Benten had stepped into the moonlit part of the room and let himself be seen. Jupiter Richards blinked, then said, “Detective?”

A very Juno-sounding voice in his head goes, _huh_ , like Juno always does when he’s flustered. Benten wasn’t flustered. He didn’t know this was Rex Glass until that exact moment, but since he knew his twin would be flustered, a part of his brain did on account of how very convenient this all was. 

And because Benten had a reputation to uphold that he was the more insufferable Steel sibling, he inched his hand for a blaster that isn’t strapped to his hip and said, “Well, you still look very un-arrested this evening. Mind stepping away from that safe?”

“You won’t shoot me,” and ah, _that_ was the charm. That’s what Juno had fallen for, a literal sharp grin and a sultry, fond smile. Juno’s taste was impeccably predictable. “After all, you still need to find the mask, and I know something you don’t.”

Benten snapped, then took a step forward, because that was what Juno did, “I’m not looking for the mask. Step away. From the safe.”

Glass checked his watch, a deliberate, playful action. “Ah, I see, this is about the time you kiss me and tell me you already called the cops, is it, Detective?”

Glass was laying it on thick, wasn’t he? If Benten didn’t know Juno had made out with this guy, he would have indulged, committed to the act. He had the time. But the idea of sharing a kiss with Juno made him feel physical ill. “Now that you mention it, yeah, they are on their way. Now, whatever your name is now, I don’t care, just get away from the safe.”

Glass inclined his head, then started laughing.

Benten’s gig was up then. He threw his hands up, frustrated. “Man, I _hate_ it when people figure it out. I was getting really good at it too. I’m serious though. I’m not gonna hurt you, man, but if you want anything from the safe, it better not be something I need.”

“You—” Glass took a breath to compose himself. “I was so confused when you wouldn’t say my name. But then you started monologuing and I just—”

“Sorry to hurt your feelings, buddy, we’re not really close like that. Also, Juno does _too_ monologue. You’d know if you hung out long enough for even a lay, asshole.”

“Oh, you must be his twin, then,” Glass finally said, wiping a tear from his eye. If he looked a bit hurt, then maybe Benten felt like it was deserved. “I see. Well, it’s already open, Mr. Steel.”

Benten walked up, then hesitated. “You’re not going to knife me or something, aren’t you? Because honestly, I was going to be a little mad at you for what you did to him, but the GCPD really are going to be here any minute now, and I’d rather not get caught in here when I already have a solid alibi.”

“Scout’s honor, Mr. Steel.”

“Ugh, you sound like Rita. Just call me Benten.”

“Benten. I swear, I won’t hurt you.

Benten squinted at him, then shrugged. 

He pulled up his comms and transferred the amount he needed because the encrypted safe had already been opened and there was no paper trail, he knew that beforehand. He checked the safe for the records, then plucked it out to place it on the desk behind them.

“That’s all of it, I think. You get what you need?”

Glass nodded. 

“Alright, c’mon. I’ll get you a drink and you can tell me what the hell possessed you to seduce my twin then skip town.”

They don’t talk again until they leave the mansion. 

* * *

It’s half past two when they get out. Happy hour, downtown. Glass had no problem getting into his car before him.

“You better pay me the insurance on that lock, if you broke anything.”

He scoffed at that, “I’m no amateur.”

So he wasn’t. That didn’t mean anything to Benten.

When they finally settle into a back booth at the bar where no one will hear them over the commotion of happy hour, Benten settled into his seat and asked, “So, not even a quick lay, huh?”

Glass laughed a short breath out of his nose as he took a drink. “Believe me, Benten, I offered. But then he called the cops so I decided to cut our meeting short.”

Benten rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t turn this on him, you were going to leave town while he was asleep anyway, then he’d be more—The point is, you cut and run and I don’t have to like it even if he does.”

“He—”

“A lady never kisses and tells, after all, but I’m his twin, Glass, whatever your name is. So, what if he came out a few minutes earlier? I’m still entitled to the protective sibling trope. So, if you _were_ going to cut and run, why stay on Mars?”

Glass looked conflicted, which made Benten feel accomplished. “I have a few jobs here and he… well, he complicated a lot of things.”

Benten took a few quick gulps of his drink. “Yeah, he’s like that.”

“Does he know you’re…?” He gestured vaguely.

“Not yet. I’ll tell him in a year. I’m just trying to hone my skills. There’s too much to do in Hyperion for me to keep safe doing this over there. Web’s too tangled.”

Glass’s comms beeped. He looked at the message, then frowned, which wasn’t a look Benten liked because when a thief with Glass’s laisse-faire attitude frowned, it was probably a Problem.

Then, it beeped again. His brows shot up, then he looked up at Benten.

“He’s. He’s just called for my services.”

Huh, Juno’s voice in his head intoned again. “Well, if that isn’t a booty call, I don’t know what is.”

Glass threw him an odd look. “You’re oddly blasé about your twin’s sex life.”

Benten chuckled. “Growing up in Oldtown does that to you. Juno’s the cleaner one of us, so you’ll have luck that he won’t tell me anything. Anyway, you got stuff to pack up? I can drive you over there.”

“You… This _isn’t_ —You’re not talking about the booty call, are you?”

“Of course not,” Benten scoffed. “I’m a great wingman, but I’m not wasting my time on you. No, I know he won’t call on you for no reason. It’s probably about a case. Anyway, I’m going to Hyperion. I stay with him every three months. It’s the first tomorrow, right?”

“Right _now_ , technically.”

Benten rolled his eyes. “A wise man once said, ‘Just because you’re accurate does not mean you’re interesting,’ Glass. You need work on your quips if you want to hang out with the Steels.”

Glass, bemused, pocketed his comms and downed the rest of his drink. “I’ll take a note of that.”

Benten pushed himself up and off his seat. “Well, looks like my plans are moving ahead of me. I’m going home to pack up. I’m assuming you’ll know where to find me by… 6AM? Tell him you’ll be there when you can, do _not_ keep him waiting.”

Glass leaned back into his seat, shaking his head. “Has anyone ever told you how demanding you could be?”

“It runs in the family. Bye, whoever you are.”

* * *

“Are you sure we’re not lost?” Glass asked, looking worryingly out the window and into Oldtown. It was Monday, so they were in luck. The weekday rush of Oldtown traffic into Hyperion City was only slightly horrendous.

“ _You sure we’re not lost?_ ” Benten mocked, throwing a glare. “I know, alright? I’ve lived here my whole life.”

“Not in the past decade, you said.”

“Yeah, I also said I stayed over every three months, _remember_?”

Glass didn’t respond to that. 

He was so much more tolerable when he was asleep. Benten could poke through his pockets when he was. He found a few doodles here and there, a bunch of other stuff. Some condoms, a military-grade plasma cutter, some gum, artist grade paint, a tube of lipstick. 

It was kind of fun, pick-pocketing a thief and finding the stupidest shit.

They didn’t talk again until Benten pulled up into his usual parking space inside Juno’s complex. “You need to hide from cameras?”

“I think this can work just fine,” Glass said, adjusting his headscarf with the rearview mirror Benten would have to adjust again later.

“Sure. C’mon.”

He didn’t bother calling on the comms since they were in the basement and taking the elevator. Juno hadn’t even gotten ready before answering the door, still wearing the bonnet he slept in and not wearing much apart from the loose ratty old shirt from… and a silky robe that was an engagement gift from Rita.

Must have been a rough night.

Benten didn’t have the chance to check in on him because suddenly he was getting squeezed to death.

* * *

“Benzaiten Steel, you are _not_ allowed to go back to Argyre ever again. You’re staying here where I can see you every day, you hear me?”

Hugging Benten after a month of absolute bullshit cases was the best thing Juno could hope for. Benten laughed, pulling back far enough to meet his eyes but not far enough to step out of the embrace. “Way to spoil my birthday gift, Super-Steel.”

Juno froze, then let go, pushing so he can stare at Benten. “No,” he muttered, looking him in the eyes.

Benten gave him a challenging look, an amused and smug one, that meant he wasn’t lying because he was saying it very deliberately to not only fuck with Juno but also because it was true. “Yes?”

Juno did as any sibling would do and punched him on the shoulder, hard. He was smiling though, so that counted. “No, you’re not! Quit lying!”

Benten laughed, then Juno laughed. Then one of Juno’s neighbors opened their door and yelled at him to shut up.

Affectionately, Juno elbowed him as he entered the apartment. “Get in here, you little shithead. _God_ , I hate you.”

It took him until he was already shutting the door to notice that someone was behind Benten that whole time. 

He had a headscarf on, but Juno would know him even if he had draped it around his face and worn contact lenses. No one else would stand like that, _smell_ like that, if not for Nureyev.

“Aren’t you gonna let him in?”

Wait.

“What?” Juno spun around to look at Benten, then realized that was a mistake because Nureyev could—

He spun back around but there he was. 

There he still was. 

“What?” He said again.

“You called _me_ here, Detective, I suspect you’d want to at least let me into your apartment to talk to me. Unless you wanted to meet up later.” Juno didn’t have to see Nureyev’s mouth to see that smile, those teeth. The memories came crashing back—

No.

How much did Benten know about…?

With a sigh, Juno stepped back and let Nureyev in, who then proceeded to look around the apartment like he hadn’t been there just a month ago, by that window, kissing the soul out of Juno, fishing the key out of his pocket.

“Well,” Benten intoned. “This is awkward.”

Nureyev snorted. “Quite.”

What the _hell_ was going on?

A soft _ding_ came from his coffee maker.

Juno rubbed a rough palm over his face, sending a quick prayer up to whoever was listening. “One of you want to explain? The coffee just finished. And I still…”

He looked down on himself, then hugged his robe close when he caught Nureyev looking.

Benten cleared his throat, loudly.

“Don’t mind if I do, Super-Steel. That guy’s been insufferable on the drive in from Oldtown _without_ any caffeine, I swear. Don’t know what you see in him, to be honest,” Benten said as he made his way to the kitchen. Behind him, Nureyev made a soft sound, one that made Juno look at him.

Nureyev caught his eye, then said, “Love the look, Juno.”

Juno stomped off to get dressed.

* * *

“You… were casing the same place.”

“Yep.”

“And you just happened to meet up at the same safe?”

“Exactly, Detective. Oh, can you pass me the—”

“Sure, here.” Benten passed the carton of cloned milk.

Juno had gone to take off his bonnet, fixed his hair, got dressed more decently, put on his face. 

He was technically ready for the day, but both Peter Nureyev and his brother combined made him want to crawl back into bed for varying reasons he didn’t want to get into.

He’d sat down at the table to his brother and Peter Nureyev, having an amicable breakfast, telling him that:

  1. Benten had been lying about the Martian Dance Troupe (something he’d known a long time now, but didn’t want to bring up because he knew Benten would say if he was in trouble).
  2. Benten had been playing Robin Hood in the Argyre plains for a decade now, five years since Juno started the Steel Detective Agency.
  3. Benten and Nureyev hated each other the moment they met and did not know how he tolerated the other.



“Oh, hey, that’s a new suit, Juno. Didn’t know you were the suit type,” Benten pointed out, eyeing the suit laying by the arm of the couch. “Where’d you get it?”

“You _know_ I’m not the suit type, Ben. Valles Vicky’s ex drugged me and I woke up in it. I assumed it was free so I took it home.”

Benten swallowed his synth orange juice, then said, “Yeah, haha, you’d take anything free home—wait, you were _drugged_?”

“Oh, don’t turn this on _me_ , Benzaiten,” Juno snapped. “ _You’re_ the one who’s just admitted to breaking and entering into people’s homes to steal their money.”

“ _And_ get them arrested! _And_ I don’t use all of it on myself, I give it away to people who _definitely_ need it!” Benten was counting off his fingers now, because getting in edgewise when Juno started reaming into him was hard.

Juno opened his mouth for a rebuttal but then Benten added, “ _And_ no one in the GCPD will ever turn me in because, a) I’ve been giving them enough arrests that they’re basically heroes at this point, and b) I only take what they won’t ever notice. Who’s going to notice a few billion creds from a trillionaire criminal’s totally un-hackable safe, right? They don’t even know how much was in it to begin with!”

Juno closed his mouth with a sigh before pushing, through clenched teeth, “Ten. _Years_. Benzaiten.”

Benten averted his eyes, only now looking sheepish. Juno caught his hand on the table to make him look.

“I would have supported you. I would have _helped_.”

“I know.”

“Then why—”

“Why don’t _you_ take me into the Agency, then?” No defiant tone, just matter of fact. They’ve had this conversation. Benzaiten, no matter how good he was, wasn’t in the Agency because Juno dealt with bad people, and involving Benzaiten wasn’t _safe_.

“Fine.” Reluctantly, Juno let it go. For now. He looked to Nureyev. He looked different as Peter Nureyev. Rex Glass was all… artificial, untouchable, now that he remembered their first meeting without alcohol and regret clouding his mind. 

Nureyev was shoveling cereal into his mouth like it was his last meal, and it made Juno feel… a lot. “What about you, then?”

Nureyev swallowed his cereal.

Who the _hell_ made eating cereal look _that_ great?

“Yes, Detective?”

“ _You’re_ the contact Vicky gave me about ancient Martian artifacts. You have to help me here, people are dying.”

“Oh,” Nureyev pushed the cereal away, swiping at his mouth to lean forward on his elbows. “Well, if we’re getting right into it. What’s in it for me, Detective?”

Benten snorted into his juice. Nureyev ignored him, which told Juno a lot about how much Nureyev had learned in the past how many hours he and his brother have been acquainted.

“That depends entirely on what you think I can give you, N—not exactly a lot. You’ve seen my office; you’ve seen my fees.”

Nureyev sighed. “That’s not a good bargain. Though. I suppose, I do need a bit of help with something. How good are you with acting?”

“ _Incredibly_ bad,” Benten intoned and Juno didn’t even have enough energy to protest. That was exactly how tired of this day Juno was. “Like, just abysmal.”

“Well, _I’m_ flexible,” Nureyev offered, with only the least bit of give on how he badly he wanted to smile. Juno rolled his eyes, and Nureyev gave in and laughed.

“I’m not. What are you getting me into?”

“Oh, you’ll have to find out.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?”

Nureyev looked delighted at that. “Well, you don’t, actually. But since I’m your only lead, you’ll just have to.”

Benten leaned in to cut him off. “No, no, no. You’re not getting it that easy, buddy. You’re going to have to be _clear_ before you cart my sibling off to some wild adventure, alright? And _you_ ,” Benten pointed at Juno for this, “You’re going to lay out why exactly you need his help. All hands in before anything gets signed or shaken on. Have you no _shame_ , Juno, haven’t you learned from Vicky?”

Begrudgingly, Juno had to admit that Benten was right. But. He didn’t have to say it. He raised a brow at Nureyev, challenging him with that.

Nureyev opened his mouth, looking at Benten with a flat but annoyed look.

Because Benten liked to showcase exactly _how_ insufferable he was, he held a finger up to shush Nureyev. “Up-up-up-puh. No buts, buddy. I may not be your client here, but I’m technically part of his Agency, and if you’re hiring his services, and he’s hiring yours, then I get to be part of it. End of story. Now, spill.”

With a long look that could have been called a glare in some planets, Nureyev took a deep breath, then spilled.

* * *

“Still can’t believe you bought me clothes,” Juno muttered under his breath, glaring at the closet, then glaring at Peter. “This is ridiculous. I have my _own_ dresses at home, thanks very much.”

“It’s part of the disguise, Dahlia darling,” Peter teased, waving a hand around. “I can’t have Engstrom identifying you from one of the other times you’ve been going around in one of _your_ dresses, can I?” He took his seat on the queen-sized bed and kicked off his shoes. “Now, while your secretary and Benten set up, why don’t we chat?”

“Got nothing to do, Nureyev?”

Oh, well, Peter had a lot to do, relatively speaking. He’d already done everything needed to prepare for this moment in the four hours Benten gave him to himself before meeting up on the drive to Hyperion. The last thing on his list before they started was to set up the meeting with Engstrom, which… took a little doing, but it was done.

Juno was supposed to pose as Benten, who’d gotten a name for himself on the underground, so maybe the scramble for an actual meeting wasn’t because of Duke Rose’s previous acquaintance, but he was too proud to admit that.

Juno, admittedly, knew exactly how to act like Benten better than Benten could act like Juno, which was a bit of a surprise, given Peter’s initial impression of him. It was eerie, when Juno gave him the impression. Incredibly eerie.

“Can’t say I have, Detective.”

“Well, here’s your ice breaker. Do you or do you not want me to tell Ben your name? Because I’m having a hard time calling you anything else, right now. I can’t go on calling you Duke when we’re out with people who know you’re not a Duke or a Rose or anything.”

Hm. Seems the detective hasn’t looked him up.

He gave Juno a very deliberate onceover, “Why, call me anything you like, darling.”

Juno flushed, then chuckled, and something in Peter both screamed and bloomed. “You’re ridiculous. Well, if I slip up, it’s not my fault, alright?”

No, he thought. No, it was most definitely not.

* * *

“When I take you to… our informant, he’s going to identify you immediately. You’re not exactly a hidden figure in Hyperion’s greater political movement, Juno.”

Benten didn’t like that idea and wasn’t shy about his opinion. “You can get Rita to fake their system out in three minutes. Two, if I’m there to help. It’s not complicated, it’s a _casino_.”

Peter raised a brow at that, and Juno held his hands up in surrender. “I can’t argue with that,” Juno admitted.

“Well, then he’s going to give us a hard time with the information we want,” Peter countered.

“Which is?” Benten and Juno asked.

Peter paused, looking between them. They were growing on him more and more, and the voice of a dead man inside his head was telling him that the end was closer than he thought, if he was getting even more fonder of the Steels than he’d initially allowed himself. “Well. Do you know about the Utgard Express?”

“The what?” Juno deadpanned.

“Yeah, no _duh_ , I’ve broken in there a couple times,” Benten admitted.

“ _What?_ ”

Benten scoffed. “Oh, but you’ll have to find another way in. Their security’s already given my entrance a scrub so you can’t do it how I did it.”

These twins really didn’t cease to amaze him.

He doesn’t hear what Juno says to his twin in that moment, while Peter is stuck in his head, considering this.

Benten shrugged, then looked at Peter, “Alright. How were you going to get that information?” 

* * *

Since Juno wasn’t in the conversation mood and apparently needed a shower, Peter brought out his reading pad and started looking through one of the files he’d plucked and digitized from his employer’s clutches.

Their target: The Egg of Purus. 

The glyphs that Miasma interpreted said that it had the power to destroy civilizations worldwide. Or at least on Mars. Seeing as testing a doomsday device would probably have been a bad idea, there wasn’t much else on the file about it.

Juno’s head popped out of the bathroom, still slightly damp. “Hey, can you pass me that bag over there?”

His other target: the pill Juno swallowed. 

It had the power to let you read someone else’s mind. Fascinating.

“Hey, Nureyev!” 

On file, it said that it was something that implanted itself to the nerve system, then crawled up to what’s the equivalent of a human eye, since Martian anatomy had apparently been entirely alien. 

How Miasma thought he was going to get it, he didn’t know. But he wasn’t going to kill Juno to get it for her.

Juno growled under his breath. “Duke!”

Peter pretended to have only then noticed the dripping lady. “Yes, darling?”

“Give me. My bag,” Juno ground out.

Peter gave him a look.

Juno looked like he was ready to shoot him without checking if it was on stun. “ _Please_?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he said, handing the light duffel bag to Juno. “Say, what ever is in there?”

“I’ve been in this bathroom trying to figure out the showers for nearly ten minutes now, I know you’ve looked through my things while I was gone.”

Well, color Peter both surprised _and_ guilty. It had been lingerie, of course, and a holster to strap a back-up blaster in, one smaller than what Juno usually used.

“My, I would _never_ invade the privacy of a la—”

Juno walked out of the shower with a towel over his head, his lingerie on, and some heels as well, heading towards the mirror to put his face on. He had nothing else on.

It was quite a sight. And to think Peter would have seen this, that night, had Juno not called the cops on him. Scars on thick arms, a slight indication of muscle build-up.

The lingerie he wore was a light grey and blue, a two-piece, a bralette, some tasteful panties, and garter hold it all together and hold up Juno’s stockings. The color complimented his eyes. And a lot of his scars.

“Take a picture, Nureyev. Take plenty. They’ll last you longer, off-planet.” Juno barely even looked up while he did his make-up.

Peter tried to rein in some of his major impulses, then feigned reading as he watched Juno set up.

It was a special kind of torture, watching Juno dress up, put on his face, walk around in the heels he wore to get used to them. Peter wondered if he could sprint in them, then remembered that Juno had trouble catching his breath, then imagined Juno gasping in that dress, with that lingerie set on underneath

Juno stepped into his dress after finishing his make-up. It was another kind of torture when he said, “Zip me up?” turning his scarred, vulnerable back to Peter.

The voice of a dead man started screaming at the back of his head as he slid off the bed to zip Juno up into the blush pink dress. A perfect fit, he knew. 

Nothing less than perfect for Dahlia Rose.

Juno turned, fitting his ear cuffs on. They were comms. Peter had opted out when Benten had offered, but Juno looked stunning with them on.

“Ready, Duke?”

A knock came to the door.

Peter flitted around to pocket his reading pad, then slid on his shoes and grabbed his jacket. Juno came up to smooth the wrinkles off, casual.

Peter wondered briefly if this was happening for real.

Another knock, more urgent this time.

Peter took Juno’s gloved hands and said, “I’m ready, darling.”

* * *

Having comms on while on a case reminded Juno, horribly, of his HCPD days. He’d have the bomb squad on hold, ready to go on his mark. People he trusted as far as he could throw them, but there was power having them with him, knowing they were one call away.

There was another power in having a team he could trust blindly.

“ _I don’t get this game_ ,” Rita said. They were watching through the feeds from the cameras on Nureyev’s glasses. 

_Me neither_ , Juno didn’t say. Nureyev didn’t seem to be winning much though, from what he observed. Engstrom was ripping a lot of cards than Juno was comfortable with. With his life on the line, it was making him a bit nervous, if he didn’t know to keep his act up.

Benten wouldn’t be fazed by a threat to his life. Evidently not, since he moved away from Hyperion just to put himself in harm’s way in his own uniquely idiotic way.

“ _Boss, I’m getting a weird frequency in there. Like there’s this… You hear it, right, Mistah Steel?_ ”

“ _Yeah. It’s… it’s Morse, I think. Ancient Earth military thing. Can you look for where it’s coming from Juno?”_

There’s the sound of furious typing on the other end of the comms as Juno looked around, seeming uninterested as he sat there. Plants were artificial, and it was kind of hard to see a lot in the room with that _stupid_ smoke from Valencia. Really, his lungs were close to acting up.

“ _It’s numbers and letters,_ ” Rita breathed. “ _It’s transmitting… 4, 10, K, Q…”_

Juno gave Nureyev’s cards a passing glance, then turned to look over Nureyev’s shoulder to stare down Valencia.

In a moment of pure confusion, Juno plunged into a blank space of thought. He felt… something, but his consciousness had the ability to sense something protruding from it. He _pulled_. It was hard to describe.

Suddenly, he saw, he knew, that the cigarette holder was fake, it was a transmitter, connected to the near-invisible ear piece Engstrom was wearing, clouded by the smoke across the room. Juno saw glimpses of arguments and conversations between Valencia and Engstrom about how this wouldn’t work, how he had to reassure her that it would and showed her.

“Something the matter, Mr. Rose?”

Juno surfaced from his… mind, gasping, heart racing. And that _smoke_. Juno swallowed for some moisture, rubbing a hand at Nureyev’s shoulder more to ground himself than to keep up appearances.

“Which one?” Nureyev intoned, glancing at Juno with a note of concern in the furrow of his brow.

“Dahlia, then,” Engstrom deadpanned. 

Juno looked up, not having to pretend to look like he’d reeled himself back from somewhere neither men could see, then gave a sheepish smile, the disarming kind he knew Benten loved to give to teachers growing up. “Sorry, Mr. Engstrom. You see, I’m asthmatic,” he wheezed more for show but kind of also real. “I feel like I have to move somewhere before it acts up. Is it okay if I sit elsewhere?”

Nureyev pouted, all for show as well, but Juno patted him on the shoulder, “Aw, I know, Duke, but I wouldn’t want have to walk back to our room _alone_ just to get my inhaler.”

Nureyev kissed him on the chin, then went, “Alright, darling. I’ll just have to catch your luck beams from all the way over there.”

Juno, absolutely playing it up because that wasn’t fair, gave him a full-mouthed kiss, chaste, but the raised brow he gave Nureyev was all the real thing.

In his ear, Rita sounded like she was screaming, far from the mic, thank fuck. Benten cut in, unfazed, “ _Juno, there’s something weird about that cigar_.”

Oh, and didn’t he know it. That thing hadn’t been getting any shorter since she escorted them from their room and… whatever trance he’d been in just proved his suspicions. In for a chip, in for a cred, right? 

On his way to sit somewhere behind Valencia, Juno snatched it from her hand and thumbed at the mouth end of it, before it broke under his grip and Engstrom stood from his seat, cursing, pawing at his ear.

He put a hand on his cheek, letting the pieces fall from his other hand. “Oh, what was that about a life for a lie, Mr. Engstrom? Did you catch it, Duke? I don’t think I was paying attention.”

Nureyev looked over his shoulder and gave him a _look_ that made Juno’s hair stand on end. He turned to look back at Engstrom, who was clutching his ear, glaring at them. 

Valencia made to throw a punch, but Juno ducked and stood back up to headbutt her. She groaned, spitting out blood that made Juno’s insides churn. “Hey, that wasn’t in the rules either!”

“Stand down, Valencia,” Engstrom said. He looked at Duke. “You… what makes you think I’m giving you the codes? If neither of you come out of this alive, no one will know.”

“ _Oooh! I knew it! Mr. Rose-Glass owes me twenty cred!_ ”

“ _Do it, Juno_. _Oh, I’ve always wanted to see him do this_. _Rita, hand that over_.”

“Alright then,” Juno muttered. “Well, you see, Mr. Engstrom…”

* * *

“Brock Engstrom,” Juno repeated. “The jewel thief?”

“Oh, he’s still alive?” Benten quipped. “He’s got a seminar thing going on in Oasis but I thought that was a hoax. And you guys need to talk to him and get the information. How.”

Peter never really did like spoiling surprises, but, well, so far, it’s been helpful, but he’ll never admit to that. “Rangian Street Poker.”

“That’s too risky. You’re not allowed to lie,” Benten retorted.

Juno was confused now. “Wait, we’re going to the pickpocket convention to gamble against Brock Engstrom?”

“Do catch up, Detective,” Peter teased. “Yes, that’s exactly what we’re doing, and because he’s had a reputation of winning an alarming amount of money from opponents in this game, that’s where you come in.”

“I’m a shitty gambler,” Juno replied as Benten said, “Oh, I see.”

Juno looked at his twin, “What?”

“Engstrom’s gotten good at cards lately, from what I hear,” Peter explained. “Too good.”

“Rangian Street Poker’s not a guaranteed win game, Juno.” Benten gave Peter a look for his needless theatrics, or so Peter thought that look was. It was hard to determine. “No one wins that much without—”

“Cheating,” Juno finally said. “Right. So, I catch him and prove it, then what? Just because it’s in the rules that you can’t lie doesn’t mean he’ll give you the codes, N-no, that makes no sense.”

Juno was struggling not to say his name, and Peter didn’t know why it made him feel… a lot. Peter huffed, “So, if he doesn’t give us the information we need, his secret gets out that he’s a lying cheater. There is actually honor among thieves, Juno, and that’s—”

“Snitches get stitches,” Benten and Juno cut in. Peter blinked. 

“Right.”

They laughed, and Peter smiled. Benten waved his hand. “No, see, but that won’t work.”

There was a knock on the door. Juno got up, “I’ll get it.”

Peter watched him look through the hole, then frown. He opened the door to say something but was cut off by a shrill, “Hey, Boss!”

“Rita, what—?”

“Oh, I invited her!” Benten called. He gave Peter a quick look. “She’s part of this Agency too, I’m afraid, plus she’s going to be handling your invoice anyway, so you don’t have a choice _but_ to talk to her.”

Peter didn’t have a choice at all the moment Benten got involved, but he didn’t say that, and honestly, he didn’t think he minded. It was a good feeling, having a team. It was novel and he was an optimist to a fault.

They caught Rita up. She took the news about Benten easily than Peter would have thought, considering Juno’s ire from earlier, and Juno noticed.

“Oh, that? I figured it out on Mistah Steel’s _third_ target, which was _expert_ , by the way.”

“Thank you!”

“Because the Martian Dance Troupe doesn’t do off-seasons, see? They’re invited all the time to recorded and live streams, and they have online videos for when they’re doing routines and I thought, well Mistah Steel oughta come up here at some point, right? But then nothing! I look up their roster, then since that’s not public information, I hack into Mr. Ramirez’s email and look at all the acceptance letters from when Mistah Steel said he was recruited and _nothing!_ So, I track him down, and he’s on feeds—”

“Alright, alright, Rita, you stalked him,” Juno cut in. He sighed, looking more stressed than when he was just mad about Benten not saying anything for ten years. “Let’s just. Get back to the case, alright?”

“Oh. Okay,” and she said, “So, Mistah Steel and I, right. We stay in one of the rooms or in the car, whatever. And see what you’re seeing, hear what you’re hearing, talk to you. Right?”

“Right,” Juno and Benten responded. Peter nodded.

“We’re back-up! We’re the tech team. So, when this Engstrom character says he doesn’t owe you a darn thing and you can’t tell no one he was cheatin’ if it doesn’t get out of the room, you know, like villains do.”

Benten nodded, mumbling his assent.

“He’s going to tell you two that he could kill you both! Nothing leaves the room! So, what you do is this: one of you in there is going to tell Mistah Engstrom that you’ve been recording him _this whole time_.”

Benten slapped at his thigh, bouncing in his seat. “Rita, that’s genius.”

“Right?! Caught it from—”

“ _How Not to Get Away From The Law Season Four!_ ” They high-fived.

Juno glared at them. “You two done, over there?”

“Yes,” Rita said contentedly.

“He won’t do that,” Peter said, mostly just to be contrary because everyone was becoming a bit too chummy in there and it was making him feel a bit left out.

“Betting twenty cred, Mistah Not-Agent Glass, it _will_ happen _.”_

 _“_ Deal.”

* * *

They’re back in their rooms, Rita and Benten were set up in a room with two beds across his and Nureyev’s, putting Juno’s nerves at ease because they were _safe_ and it was over.

Nureyev walked further into the room to hand Rita her twenty cred and she responded to this like any self-respecting forty year old would. By standing up on the bed and waving it around like she probably saw in Valles Vicky’s Vixen Valley. 

“Rita and I can use the other room, if you want,” Benten offered, probably remembering Juno’s whole drunken mopey spiel about Nureyev from way back. Juno appreciated the thought but, well… Didn’t like that he was being babied when he got it handled. “We’re pretty much done here anyway. We just have to rest up for a few hours before we can catch that train.”

Juno threw a look at Nureyev, who was walking back to the entrance, unbuttoning the front button on his suit jacket. There was smudged lipstick on his mouth from when he’d kissed him earlier. Juno was sure there was some on his chin too.

Yeah, he got this.

“Thank you,” Nureyev said just as Juno replied, “We’re okay.”

They look at each other. Rita and Benten look at each other.

“No, we’re staying here,” Rita said with a tone of finality that Juno knew and dreaded that he was not going to sway her from. Benten nodded, because he was a little shit.

For once, Juno appreciated it. 

“Mistah Steel and I are binge-watching season five, though, so if you guys want to stay up…”

“No, we’re all going to sleep, that’s final,” Juno pushed, playing along because he knew they expected him to. “No streams, Rita. I mean it, or else I’m telling HR to have you on probation.”

“But _Boss_.”

Juno took his ear cuffs off, then grabbed Nureyev’s glasses from his pockets, replacing the camera glasses Rita and Benten gave them. “ _No_ buts! We’re chasing a train tomorrow! C’mon, Nureyev. Benzaiten.” He placed each item on the dresser with as much force as he could without seeming too overdramatic.

“Yes, Mama Juno, I’ll tell your secretary to go to bed,” Benten droned.

“I hear so much as a _peep_ of a stream in this room…” He lets the threat trail off as he and Nureyev stepped out of the room and into the hallway before their door.

There’s a moment of silence where they hear nothing from the no-doubt soundproofed rooms of this floor. The elevator, in the distance, let out a soft _ding_.

“So,” Nureyev started.

“So.” Juno turned to look at him.

“What’s the occasion, Mr. Rose?” Nureyev fished the keycard to their room out of his pocket, sliding it in front of the lock.

Juno leaned into his space, resting a hand on his waist. “I’m taking something of mine back. And giving you back something you gave me.”

“Oh?”

Juno took Nureyev’s hand, then lead him into their room with the single queen-sized bed. The door clicked shut behind them.

“Pray tell, what is it, Mr. Rose?”

“Oh, forgotten already, have we?” Juno deadpanned. He let Nureyev crowd him up against the door. “This is our second date. And you’ve taken my handcuffs.”

Nureyev gave him that fox’s grin, and Juno shuddered as he put his arms around Nureyev’s neck. 

“And what I gave you, Detective?”

“Peter,” Juno whispered into his neck. He reveled in the whole body shiver the single word racked through Peter. “I’m going to scream your name enough times for you to jumble a few identities tonight. Alright?”

“Sounds promising.”

Juno slid his fingers through Peter’s hair, then pulled, hard. He groaned. “Unzip me, Peter.”

Peter let his hands roam over Juno’s back, hands warm and fingers gentle, until his fingers found the top of the zipper. Juno leaned in for a kiss, as he breathed a sigh, feeling the vibrations as the zipper was pulled down and the dress came off, dropping to the floor. 

Peter traced the lace patterns of his bralette as he was pushed back while Juno kicked his heels off.

Juno made his way to sit on the bed, looking up at him, a challenge in his eyes. “My handcuffs?”

Peter shrugged his suit jacket off, then grabbed his overcoat from the couch. It barely took him a second to locate the cuffs. “On you or me?”

Juno watched him crawl into his space. “You, of course, unless you really _have_ forgotten last time. I’m not that good of a kisser, am I, Peter?”

He hummed. “I can’t say. Let me try again, maybe it’ll refresh my memory, hm?”

* * *

It’s the blaster that wakes him, then the hurried footsteps from across the hall that really startle him into sitting up.

Peter squinted in the dark until he found his glasses under the pillows. “Juno—what? What was that?”

“Turn on the lights,” Juno ordered, shrugging on Peter’s shirt, blaster still glowing from fresh discharge. 

Peter fumbled. Light flooded the room enough to give him a glimpse of his idling reading pad, which told him that it was late in the evening, a few hours since they finished. Juno is up, now, looking at something on the carpet.

There’s someone on the floor, holding a larger blaster. Peter crouched down to inch towards her. “Is she…?”

“My blaster doesn’t have a kill function, Nureyev. She’s alright. But she was going to shoot you.”

Peter glanced up at him, emotions churning at the implications, then froze. “Juno, are you hurt?”

“What?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Juno put a hand on his face, then blinked at the blood that came with it. “Huh.”

“What, what happened?” Benten demanded as he came in, clad in only his pajamas, looking harried and frantic at the body on the floor. “Holy shit, Juno. You’re bleeding.”

“I know, he’s said. It’s probably just a nosebleed. Get Rita ready, we have to leave.”

Benten is gone before Juno even finished his last sentence. 

They dressed, shoved clothes and everything left around into Juno’s duffel. Peter lets Juno wear his overcoat and ignored the emotions tearing through him, silencing the voice of the dead man in his memories.

Rita goes point and they surround her as she led them to the servants’ elevator, noting a few people coming to check their rooms on the feeds as she did. 

Peter very nearly let loose a _knew we should have killed him_. It’s a close thing. But the furrow at Juno’s brow and the tense silence from Benten kept his mouth shut. 

“I’ve called Captain Khan, by the way,” Rita assured when they’re relatively safe in the elevators, making their way down to the basement parking lot. “Sent them the video from earlier. That’ll give us a few minutes before they go looking.”

“Good thinking,” Benten told her right as the doors to the elevator open.

* * *

“I think that’s about it,” Peter announced over the hiss of the stove. It was just about time for lunch and Juno, much to Peter’s surprised, decided to cook. “We have our plan. We can go this afternoon.”

Benten handed Juno the bowl of cloned cheese he’d been grating, humming. He looked up to give Peter a challenging look from where he sat on the Steels’ sofa.

“What?”

“What do you mean _what_? You sound like Juno.” Benten put his hands on his hips, looking just about as threatening as he could in an apron that read _Nothing But Chainmail Underwear_. “Super-Steel, what’s he missing?”

Juno took a sip of the sauce he was making, then hummed as he put the ladle down. “Stir this.” Juno sighed, turning as Benten took the ladle from him, wiping his hands on his own _Turbo Cook_ apron. “N… _Glass_. You still haven’t said who hired you for the Egg and the rest of the artifacts. If you don’t hand them this and dodge them, they still know where the pill went and I can’t risk that.”

Peter hated when either Steel was right about wanting transparency. Mag would have killed them.

Since he wasn’t Mag, Peter caved. Leaning back against the cushions, Peter ran a hand through his hair. “Miasma. She only started collecting Martian artifacts four years ago. Before that she was—”

“A xenoanthropologist,” Juno finished. “She was a professor in Olympus U for fifty years, won three lifetime achievement awards for her research on Ancient Martian culture.”

“Someone did their homework,” Benten teased. Juno hip-checked him lightly, then turned to Peter.

Beside him on the couch, Rita’s comms beeped. She said, “Whoa, she wrote a _lot_ about this stuff. I’m saving these for fun.” Her fingers run across the screen, then make their way to her wireless keyboard on the table. Peter watched the screen scroll rapidly until her comms emitted another beep, then, “Who puts their super secret plans on _the cloud_? She doesn’t even turn her comms off! She’s off hiding near Elysium Mons with about forty other artifacts she digitized her research in and a few others she hasn’t.”

Peter stared at her for a moment, then back at Juno, who had his arms crossed, grinning like the cat that got the cream.

He wanted to kiss it off his face.

Benten took a sip of the broth himself, then turned away from the stove. “I guess we could turn her in for theft and all the murders that came with it. Also, this needs some cloned oyster sauce, Juno, but it’s pretty much ready.”

Juno blinked, then rummaged through the cupboards for the bottle, taking the ladle from Benten.

“ _Now_ that’s about it,” Benten said with a flourish as he took his apron off. “Rita, set the table. We’re eating, then we’re heading to Oasis.”

* * *

They reach the parking garage and take the first car Peter could open. They drive off to the Martian desert, the chill of Martian nights and lack of dome making their windows fog up.

“Did you steal this car on purpose, buddy? Because it seems…”

“Yes, actually,” Peter replied, meeting Benten’s eyes over the rearview mirror. “Most legendary getaway car in the galaxy.”

“Oh, this is _awesome_ ,” Benten cheered, turning in his seat to look out behind them. “Ugh, this thing looks so cool.”

“Are you serious?” Juno asked softly, tiredly from the passenger seat. He huffed when all he got in reply was a smirk from Peter, then said, “ _Thieves and their cars_. Let’s just go home.”

Peter floored it, just so it could drown out his foolish heart.

* * *

Leaving Benten and Rita at the station, Juno and Peter found the Egg of Purus without difficulty. The hard part, of course, was getting off the train.

When a train as fast as the Utgard Express had a once in a week change at a single station on the planet, it was harder to stop it at the station itself. That, Peter suspected, was why they only stopped it once a week.

“What are the cons of just jumping off the train?” Juno asked.

Peter laughed, “Detective, I know you’re afraid of heights.”

Juno stared at him, then grumbled, “Yeah, okay, that’s pretty compelling.”

“Well,” Peter breezed with the wave of a hand. “No matter. I won’t let you fall, Juno.”

Juno, as he was wont to do when he was reciprocating Peter’s advances, flushed, smiled, smothered his smile with a hand and averting his eyes, then said something witty to return the flirtation. This was how he worked, of course, before last night.

Now, Juno met his eyes full on. He was still flushed, but his grin was sharp with gruff affection. “Doesn’t mean I won’t, if you’re not careful.”

Peter raised his brows at that, humming in intrigue. “I see.”

“That bad?”

“Can’t say it is, Juno. I can’t say it is.”

_Be-be-beep._

Juno picked up his comms. “Benten, Rita. Any chance of stopping this?”

“ _Nope, looks like the code was a one-time thing,_ ” Benten said. “ _Rita’s working on randomizing another code though, so this might take…_ ”

“ _Ten minutes, Mistah Steel!_ ”

“ _Ten minutes._ ”

“Well, if Miasma’s been looking for us, she won’t have any luck catching us on this thing, at least,” Juno said. “Small victories.”

Benten laughed. “ _Alright, I’ll keep an eye out. With our luck, she might just pop up when we figure out how to stop this thing._ ” With that, he hung up.

Peter wouldn’t put it past her. Miasma always did say she got what she wanted.

“Not with that attitude,” Juno said.

Peter blinked. “What.”

Juno blinked back. “Oh, you didn’t say anything, didn’t you?”

Peter shook his head, perplexed. “You can…”

“The pill,” Juno mumbled. “The pill _works_. That means… you really _were_ there when I took it.”

Peter knelt down next to him. “Juno…”

“You were there, I heard you. I heard her too. And Strong, and all those guards.” Juno was getting more and more agitated as the time passed.

Well, so much for falling, Peter thought. Way to mess it up, Nureyev.

“Stop that.”

“I hardly think it’s fair for you to tell me to stop thinking when I’m not even asking you to read my thoughts, Juno.”

Juno took a deep breath. “This is… this is fine. Right? Not like it’ll kill me.”

“It’s attached to your nervous system.”

Juno glared up at him. “How do you know that?”

“Stole Miasma’s files.”

“And you didn’t think that was important information you could have shared with the class?”

“You know I’m not the sharing type.”

Juno took a few calming breaths, his eyes closed. Peter shoved down the guilt and panic that kept trying to rise inside him. Mostly because the guilt was building up with every calming breath Juno has to take.

“I’m fine, Peter.”

“There’s a parasite in your nervous system and you tell me you’re fine?”

“It’s hardly anyone’s fault but mine,” Juno insisted.

Peter huffed. “Yes, and I’m not allowed to worry because it was all your fault, then? What if it kills you?”

“’S prevented that so far.”

“What?”

Juno ran a hand over his face, rubbing at his eyes. “During your game with Engstrom. I found the bug when I rooted around Valencia’s brain.”

Peter watched him, didn’t speak until Juno put his hand down and looked him in the eye, searching for answers, easy ones. “Your nose started bleeding earlier.”

“Heard the assassin’s thoughts before she came in. She was going to shoot you.”

He used it to protect Peter, twice now.

Juno scoffed, “You don’t _owe_ me anything, Peter. I did it because I had to pro—”

The train groaned, then began losing speed, gradually enough that Juno slid on the floor and Peter toppled over on his ass.

 _Be-be-beep_.

“ _We stopped it, Boss! You can get out now_.”

“Yeah, Rita, we noticed. Thanks.” Juno pushed himself up, then came over to pull Peter up to his feet. “C’mon.”

“Juno.”

“We’ll figure it out later. Now, let’s get off this thing.”

“… Okay.”

* * *

Benten and Rita abandoned him in the car with Peter as soon as they could because they were treasonous co-workers and family and Juno hated that they had a stake in all of Juno’s life decisions.

(This was a lie all of them were aware of but lived with because that was just what family did.)

“So, Detective,” Peter started.

“So.”

Juno picked at the lint on his shirt, then realized it was Peter’s.

“Peter—”

“Juno—”

Juno met those bright eyes just as Peter met his. They fumbled, stammered, giggled at each other, until Peter said, “This was… I had fun, Juno. I’ve never… Well, I’ve worked with a team before, but I…”

“You haven’t depended on anyone before? Yeah.” 

Peter nodded. 

Juno said, “Yeah, I get it. In another world, that would. I’d be exactly like that, I think. Ben keeps me on my toes.”

“Yes, I believe that’s just what he does.”

Juno laughed, and it felt great, sitting in the Ruby 7, talking to Peter about someone he loved. They trailed into a comfortable silence that slowly turned uncomfortable as Juno tried to muster the courage to—to do what? Ask Nureyev to stay in Mars? To ask him out for dinner? To ask if he was open for employment because the Agency had a slot opened for intergalactic convicts who knew how to break in and out of a place undetected? To say…

Peter looked like he was having the same struggle.

Without anything better to do, Juno leaned into his space, and Peter met him halfway. It was just as novel and thrilling as any other kiss they shared, even the ones they shared last night, on the high of an operation gone right. Juno sighed, breathed in the scent of Peter Nureyev.

“Juno…” He met Peter’s eyes. They were bright in the dim light inside the Ruby 7 and the basement parking lot of his apartment complex.

“Is this where you arrest me and tell me the cops are on their way?”

Peter smiled, a soft thing that made Juno’s heart skip a few beats, as cliché as that sounded. “I think you’ve reversed our roles here, dear detective.”

“Oh?” Juno dove in for another kiss, “I guess you’re just that good a kisser, hm?”

“Juno…”

This was going to be about the pill again. Juno knew, not because he could hear Peter’s thoughts without the extra effort, but because he could see the guilt creeping up to the furrow on Peter’s brow.

He ought to change the subject.

“Peter,” Juno took the thief’s cheek into his hand, traced the edge of his saccharine smile. “What… what do you want us to be?”

“Hm?”

“You’re not staying planet-side,” Juno stated. Peter didn’t move to deny him or ask him about the pill in his nerves. “You’ve got places to be, people to steal from.”

“And you’ve got cases to solve, people to shoot,” Peter added.

“So?”

“So.” Peter took a deep breath, then leaned forward to rest his forehead on Juno’s. “Is this a goodbye, Detective?”

Juno caught his chin, landed another kiss on those silken lips. “I think you and I would know that if this was a goodbye, I’d be doing something else.”

Peter hummed. “Sounds tempting.”

“I’m sure you took enough pictures to last you off-planet.”

Peter’s hand snuck up his thigh. “This isn’t goodbye, then.”

“Unless you want it to be.”

Peter smiled. “No, Juno. I want so much more.”

Good.

Juno smiled back. “Good. You’re hired.”

Peter’s laugh tasted amazing on his lips.

**Author's Note:**

> in my notes, this au is summarized as "Death Mask to Train of Nowhere, everything is the same but:  
> -Ben & Rita are backup  
> -Juno keeps his eye  
> -Nureyev is confused but "Scared is the best way to be horny."  
> -The Shovel Talk  
> -Well-adjusted Juno"
> 
> I think that's pretty much it.
> 
> \- [tumblr](http://stubbornjerk.tumblr.com) \- [twitter](http://twitter.com/stubborn_jerk) -
> 
> comments are appreciated!!!!


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